has anybody ever told you
by bookishgypsy
Summary: The moment she realizes she's in love with her dorky, shaggy haired, nerd of a boyfriend, she's mortified.


The moment she realizes she's in love with her dorky, shaggy haired, nerd of a boyfriend, she's mortified.

She's at her dad's house, the two of them talking over lunch.

(She's glad she has her dad back in her life again and she knows she has Jesse to thank for that.)

They're talking about nothing important, nothing in-particular: her classes, the Bella's, and of course her budding relationship with Jesse.

(Her dad likes Jesse, he tells her Jesse's been nothing but a good influence on her; she can't say she disagrees.)

But when he asks about her plans after college, if she's still considering moving to Los Angeles, and she replies with, "Jesse and I are planning to move out there after we graduate," it hits her.

She's in love with Jesse.

Completely and totally _in love_ with him.

She's seeing them together when they graduate, picturing them making the move to Los Angeles _together._

 _Living_ together and _being_ together.

She's honestly not sure if she could picture her life without the weirdo.

She leaves her father's house in a trance that afternoon.

She doesn't know what she's supposed to do with her new found revelation.

:::::

He can't help but feel like something might be wrong with Beca.

The feeling first starts when he feels her sit closely beside him at their spot on the quad after her afternoon English class.

(They always meet here two times a week after their respective classes; he's made a habit of trying to get as much of his schoolwork done while he waits for her to be released from her own class.)

His history book is open, pencil in his left hand as he fills in the answers on his assigned homework when she grabs his arm from him and pulls the pencil from his grasp. She lifts his arm up, wraps it around her shoulders and leans in to kiss him soundly against the lips.

The action surprises him; she wasn't typically one for public displays of affection. Sure, she'd hold his hand when they'd walked around campus, but that was all she was really comfortable with.

"What was that for?" His eyes find her ocean-blue ones when she pulls away from him.

"Nothing. I just missed you," she says quietly.

"I knew you couldn't resist me." He only says it to get a reaction from her, but he notices no trace of a smile against her face. She leans into his touch, resting her head against the crook of his neck. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

He's not sure if he believes her, but he decides not to question it. He closes his history book shut and pulls her closer, holding her tightly around her waist as she curls into him as tightly as she can.

:::::

It's weird, she thinks.

They've done this dozens of times before, but she can't help but notice how it feels different tonight.

It feels a little more special, a little more intimate.

She's laying on her front side, her bare back exposed to him as he traces the outlines of the tattoos on her body with his index finger. The full moon's light shining in through her bedroom window, cascading around their bodies, just slightly, only makes the moment feel even more romantic.

She didn't think it was possible for her to care this much about someone, or for someone to care that much about her.

She needs to tell him, she decides. She needs to tell him she loves him right here, right now.

She pivots her body around to face him. "Jesse."

His face scrunches together and he reaches out to cup the side of her face with his hand. "What's wrong?"

She hates that he knows her so well, hates that he can read her like an open book.

"Umm," she says quietly.

All the confidence she built in herself only seconds ago seems to evaporate.

The only thing her mind can focus on right now is the prospect that this relationship might not work out. Who's to say what's going to happen in a week, a month, a year? Sure, things might be great now, but what if they're not soon?

She knows it's stupid. It's _Jesse_.

But she can't shake the growing anxieties that unease her mind.

"Bec?"

She can't do this right now. She's not ready.

"I'm just really cold."

She pushes her body close to him and rests her head against his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her tight, pulling her comforter up to cover their naked bodies. She feels him place a kiss against her temple as he pulls her a little closer.

She closes her eyes and silently wishes she could just say those three little words without being so terrified.

:::::

He loves watching her rehearse with the Bella's.

(It's become automatic for him to pick her up from her once a week nighttime rehearsal with the girls.)

He sits in the chair that he always does, watching on as the girls sing, and dance, and rearrange choreography and harmonies. He gets so much joy watching her do this; she loves it, and it shows.

She's so good at it, mixing a full set for the group, harmonizing ten different voices together _and_ choreographing a whole routine to match the beat.

Sure, she has lots of help from the other girls with all this stuff, but he's still so incredibly proud of all she does.

He watches on as she dismisses the girls when she spots him, and he takes that as his cue to make his way over to her. She's standing by the piano when he reaches her, packing up her headphones and laptop.

He wraps his arm around her waist and lightly kisses her temple. "Hey."

"Mmmm," she hums, leaning into his touch.

"Are you hungry? Do you wanna go grab something to eat?" His thumb digs into her waist gently, tracing small circular patterns against her skin.

"I'm really tired." She swings her black bag over shoulder lazily. "Can we just get some take out and watch a movie or something?"

He turns her around to face him. The rest of the room has already cleaned out; the other girls quickly heading off to do whatever it was they had planned for the rest of the evening. She leans forward against him, her head nestled in the spot between his shoulder and neck. He loves her when she's like this with him. Loose and languid, no fears or anxiety clouding her mind.

"Are you sick?" He rubs the soft fabric of her tank top against her back. "You want to watch a movie?"

She pulls away from him and hits him against his chest lightly. "Actually, I just want to sleep. The movie was for you."

"Dinner and a movie, it is," he says, reaching for her hand and tangling their fingers together before finally making their way out of the building.

:::::

They'd brought back soup to her room, from a small little bistro that's right off campus. Tomato for her, chicken noodle for him.

She didn't pay attention to the movie he chose to stream off Netflix; she wasn't going to put up a fight tonight about the movie selection, she just wanted to fall asleep curled up against him.

She's close to losing herself to unconsciousness when he asks her, "What are you up to on Saturday?"

"Hmm," she mumbles against his chest. "Why?"

"I was thinking we could head up to Chattanooga, make a day of it. The drives only a few hours. It'd get us out of Barden for a day, do something different."

She knows she doesn't have anything planned, but she feels that familiar wave of anxiety already building inside her at the possibility of actually taking this road trip with him.

She's not sure why, but the thought of traveling with him, doing touristy things, feels so intimate. It's different and it's uncharted territory.

They hadn't spent anytime together outside of their comfort zone at Barden. She doesn't know what would happen if they did, and she's not sure if she wants to.

It freaks her out, the thought of spending the day with him in another city.

"The Bella's have rehearsal scheduled for Saturday afternoon," she says. "I'm sorry, Jess."

"That's okay." She can hear the smile in his voice and she feels a ping in her chest. "Some other time, then."

"Yeah." She curls in closer to his warm body. "Some other time."

:::::

"Ah, Jesse. My favorite Treble."

The familiar Australian accent breaks him out of his focus, forcing him to pull his head up from his laptop.

(He'd decided to spend his Saturday at the library on campus, working on his psychology paper while Beca was busy with the Bella's for the afternoon.)

"Amy," he drags out her name slowly, eyeing the blonde carefully.

"Alright, my second favorite Treble. Fifth." She sits down beside him on the green couch in the corner of the large room. "Okay, maybe sixth."

"What are you doing here?" This is the last place he'd expected to find her. He honestly didn't think Amy even knew the campus _had_ a library.

"Me? Jesse, my dear. What about you? What are you doing at the library on a Saturday afternoon? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" She winks at him, suggestively.

He pulls his phone out at the mention of Beca to check the time. It's just past one, indicating that rehearsal should definitely be taking place right now.

"I thought you had Bella's practice?"

"Today?" Amy asks. "No. No rehearsal today."

"Beca said you guys were rehearsing all afternoon today."

"No, sorry. Definitely not today."

"Hmm," he says. "Did she decide to cancel at last minute? Could someone not make it?"

"There was never any practice time scheduled today, my friend." She places her right hand against his shoulder. "I think you've been lied to."

He figured that much; he was just hoping for a different answer.

He knows she lied to him, he just can't seem to figure out why.

:::::

"How was rehearsal yesterday?"

He asks this from his position against her, his head resting lightly on her chest, her fingers tangled in his hair as she leans against the pillows on his bed. It's late afternoon, the television's soft hums echoing in the room, neither of them paying much attention to whatever was playing.

"Productive," she says. "We got a lot done."

He doesn't respond right away, and she continues running her fingers through his hair. It's comforting to her, to have him this close.

"I know you didn't have rehearsal yesterday, Bec." Her fingers still in his wavy hair, and she feels him sigh against her. "I ran into Amy at the library."

"Oh," she replies.

"Why did you lie to me?" He pushes himself up, twisting his body around to face hers.

"I don't know."

"If you didn't want to go, you should have just told me," he reaches for her hand and squeezes it gently. "I wouldn't have cared."

"I'm sorry."

He leans himself against the pillows piled against his headboard, pulling her to him and she cozies herself up against his chest.

She knows she's pushing him away, again; she just didn't know what else to do.

:::::

He feels like she's stressed, so he decides to take her out for the night.

He tells her to wear her best sweatpants and to make sure she brings a sweater; Georgia's temperatures might be relatively mild at this time of year, but the nights can still get cool.

He doesn't tell her what he has in mind, just tells her to get into his car and that it's a surprise. She doesn't put up much of a fight, which puzzles him. She hates surprises.

It only reiterates that his idea of taking her out for the evening was the right decision.

He pulls up to Lake Lanier and she says, "The lake? Really?"

"Yes. The water is peaceful, it's very relaxing. I packed us a picnic for dinner and everything, c'mon."

He sets up a blanket on the sand, pulls out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a bottle of wine for the two of them.

"Plastic cups for wine? You're really going all out, Swanson."

"Only the best for you." He smiles up at her and hands her the red cup.

She pushes the plastic up to her lips and takes a sip. "So, what's the reason behind all this?"

"Does there have to be a reason? Can't a guy just take his girlfriend to the lake for a night out?"

"I guess so," she says, accepting the aluminum foil wrapped sandwich he hands her. "What? No potato chips?"

He pulls out a bag Lay's Barbecue potato chips, her favorite, from his basket. "Don't think I didn't think of everything. I come well prepared."

It's later when they're curled up together on the blanket, the moonlight reflecting off the water. She leans against his chest as he sits upward, their hands tangled together against her stomach.

"How are you?"

She laughs at that. "I'm fine. Why?"

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he says. "You've seem stressed this past week, like your mind's somewhere else. I'm worried about you."

"I'm okay. I promise."

"You know, I'm here if you need to talk about anything, right?"

She nods against him. "I know."

He squeezes her hand and she turns her head up to face him. He leans down slightly to kiss her softly.

He feels like she's pulling away from him and he can't figure out why.

:::::

"You're distracting me."

"That was precisely the plan, yes." He continues trailing kisses along her neck and jawline, just as he he had been for the past five minutes.

She shrugs her shoulder up towards her neck, pushing his mouth away from her skin. "I'm trying to finish this mix for the Bella's."

"You can finish that later," he says. He brushes his lips against the bare skin on her shoulder and she hates that he _still_ has this crazy effect on her. "Take a break."

"Jess."

His mouth moves to anywhere he can access her bare skin and she tries her hardest to keep her focus on the music playing from her speakers.

He's proving to make it damn difficult, though.

"Jesse, seriously. I need to finish this."

"Thirty minutes, that's all. A thirty minute break."

"Jess, you and I both know that if we start anything, it's not going to be just thirty minutes."

He starts peppering kisses along the length of her arm and suddenly she's lying against her bed on her back and his mouth is covering hers.

She hates that it feels so good, hates that he can make her feel this way.

Then he pulls away from her and leans up to look directly into her eyes. The look in his eyes as he stares down into hers is so full of affection and adoration and _love_.

It terrifies her.

He brushes some of the stray hair on her face behind her ear and keeps his hand placed against the side of her face. He presses his mouth against hers again and it's filled with so much passion but she can't even focus on the kiss.

The only thing she can focus on is that fact that she _loves_ this guy and she's pretty sure she's just a few seconds from blurting it out.

She can't tell him now. Not like this.

She's not sure if she can _ever_ tell him.

Because really, there's so many things that could go wrong.

She'd rather not get herself in any deeper, save herself some of the hurt that's inevitably going to come.

"Jesse, stop." She pushes up on his shoulders to lift some of his weight off her. "Stop."

He hovers over her and looks directly at her. His facial expression changes to worry and she realizes he must notice the look of distress on her face; she's not surprised, he always does. "Bec, What's wrong?"

He rubs his thumb underneath her eye and she turns her gaze away from his quickly. "I told you. I need to finish this mix."

"I really don't think that's what's bothering you."

"Well, it is." She settles herself in front of her laptop screen again and she feels his eyes stay on her.

"Bec…"

"Jesus, Jesse. Leave it alone." She closes her eyes as soon as the words leave her mouth. She didn't mean to snap at him. It's not his fault that she's such a mess. When she feels his weight start to lift off of her bed she says, "Wait. I'm sorry. Don't go."

He says nothing as he sits himself down beside her again.

She doesn't look in his direction, but she reaches for his hand, links their fingers together and squeezes gently.

Slowly, she feels him squeeze back.

:::::

It was when Jesse noticed the sun had fully set in the horizon that he began to have an uneasy feeling settle in his stomach.

They always spent the night together; they usually ended up in her bed, but sometimes she'd stay in his. They'd already planned that she'd meet him in his room that evening; they were going to make spaghetti together for dinner.

He thought she just might have been running late, maybe she got tied up with something at the house; it's not unusual for haywire to break loose inside a space where ten girls are living.

But it's already past eight and she should have been here two hours ago.

He knows she's not coming. If he's honest with himself, he figured it out an hour and a half ago. He was just trying to be optimistic.

He pulls his iPhone off the little end table next to his bed and dials her number.

"Hi, Jesse," she answers on the third ring, soft and distant.

"Bec," he says. "I thought you were coming over."

"About that," she starts. He already knows what the next words out of her mouth are going to be before she says them. "I think I'm just going to stay over here tonight."

"What? Why? I've been waiting for you to show up for two hours, now. You said you were going to be here."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just have a lot of homework to do, and I really need to get it done."

"You couldn't have let me know earlier? Bec, I was really looking forward to our night together."

"I know." The way she says it, the tone of her voice, he knows she's close to tears.

"We haven't spent a night apart in months, Bec." Homework's never been a factor for them before, he doesn't understand why it is tonight.

"I'm sorry."

He wants to tell her he knows she pushing him away, again. That he knows she's making excuses to avoid seeing him. He doesn't want to further upset her, though, not right now, so he just says, "It's okay, Bec."

He'll talk to her about it some other time.

:::::

"You're doing it again, you know," he says.

They're in his shared room at the Treble's house when he decides to bring it up. Her laptops at the end of the bed; Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets playing, the only light source illuminating the room.

(He's introducing her to the magical world of Harry Potter; so far, she's not hating it.)

"Doing what?" Her backs against his chest and he's rubbing her arm with his thumb.

"You're pushing me away again."

He feels her tense against him when she says, "No, I'm not."

"Yeah, Bec. You are."

"No, Jess, I'm not."

"You lied to me about Chattanooga." He grabs her hand and squeezes it gently in an attempt to calm her. "You told me you couldn't spend the night with me yesterday because you had homework, which I know was just an excuse."

"No, it wasn't. I really had a paper to write." She drops his hand and lifts herself up to tap the spacebar, effectively pausing the movie.

"Is that why Amy said you spent the entire night sulking in your room?"

She turns around, looking at him incredulously. "Are you having her spy on me, now, or something?"

"No," he says. "She texted me and asked what was wrong. She was worried about you."

"Well, I'm fine. Maybe I just needed a little time to myself."

"You've been really distant these past few weeks, Beca," he says.

"Jesse."

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" He looks her straight in the eyes, resting his hand against the bottom of her leg. "What's going on, Bec?"

She doesn't reply to his question, just looks down at her folded hands across her lap. "I'm not dealing with this right now."

She closes her laptop and shoves it into her bag forcefully, swinging her legs over the bed and landing on her two feet.

"So, that's it? You're just going to leave?"

She wraps her sweater around her waist and reaches for her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.

"You're doing it right now," he says. "You're pushing me away right now."

"I'm not dealing with this right now," she repeats, turning her back on him and disappearing from his sight.

Jesse stares at the door she just walked out of, trying to make sense of what just happened.

:::::

He takes her out to their favorite pizzeria in downtown Atlanta that night.

(It'd become tradition since the beginning of the school year to split a pepperoni pizza at Rosa's Pizza every Friday.)

They hadn't spoke in five days. Not since she stormed out of his room that night and the whole situation was driving him crazy.

He didn't know what was running through her mind lately, he couldn't figure it out. He only knew that something was definitely eating her up inside.

He's just glad she didn't cancel on him. He was almost certain she was going to find an excuse to skip out on their dinner plans since she seemed to be making a habit of it lately.

He just missed his girlfriend and wanted to spend some time with her.

They're nearing the end of their meal when she gets a text. She pulls her phone out to read it, and he notices the demeanor in her eyes change instantly.

"Bec?"

She slowly looks up from her phone, meets his eyes, and mutters, "Hmm?"

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she says it lightly, but he can hear the distance in her vocal tone. "Sure. Everything's fine."

"Beca." He reaches his right hand across the table to rest it on top of her left.

"My mom's getting married," she blurts out. He watches as she looks at the their adjoined hands on top of the red and white checkered table. "The weddings next month."

"Bec." He squeezes her hand gently, trying to pour every ounce of reassurance he can into the touch.

"It doesn't matter." Beca pulls her hand out from under his and rests it in her lap, hidden away from view. "I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"Because my mother's always been a bitch to me." He's surprised when she raises her voice at him, but she's more gentle when she continues with, "I don't owe her anything."

"But she's your mom."

"So?"

"So, I think you might regret it if you choose to not go."

"I don't think I will." Beca shakes her head back and forth, stealing another bite of the pepperoni pizza sitting on the paper plate in front of her.

"She's your mother, Bec."

"It doesn't really matter, it's my choice. Not yours." She drops the remaining crust on her plate, standing up, and grabbing her bag. "I'm done. Can we go?"

She walks out of the building before he has a chance to respond.

:::::

The twenty minute car ride back to campus is utterly silent.

Beca keeps head turned towards the window, gazing at the city lights as they drown out in the distance. She feels Jesse keep darting his eyes in her direction whenever they hit a red light or a stop sign.

He pulls up in front of the Treble's house, driving right past the Bella's.

"Aren't you dropping me off at home?"

"I think we need to talk first," he says, turning his car off and pulling the keys out of the ignition.

She exits the car before him, slams the door behind her and starts making her way up to the front door. She hears him following right behind her, catching up with her steps just as she enters the house.

"Bec, we've gotta talk about this."

"Just leave it alone, Jesse," she snaps. "She's not your mother, it doesn't matter what you think. It's my decision."

"Forget about your mothers wedding. You've been pushing me away all week. What's going on?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"It's nothing, Jess! I already told you, it's nothing. Why do you keep pushing me?" This is a conversation she definitely doesn't want to have right now. Or ever. She thinks it'd really just be best for her to leave. She takes a few steps forward, brushing her way past him.

"You and I both know that's not true," he grabs her shoulders and turns himself around to face her. He's gentle and caring when he asks his next question and she almost wishes he wouldn't be. "What's going on, Beca?"

"Stop pushing me!" She rips his hands off of her shoulders. "Jesus, Jesse. Stop breathing down my neck."

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

"I just told you! It's nothing!" She knows Jesse's not going to let this go that easily. He knows her so well that it terrifies her; she thinks he might know her better than she knows herself.

"It's not nothing! We both know it's not nothing!" Jesse starts raising his own voice and that's when she realizes he's serious about this.

(They've fought before, of course. They had little arguments all the time, mostly over stupid things. They've had times when they wouldn't speak for a few days, but this is the first time he's ever raised his voice in an argument, and it scares her. Jesse was always calm with her, no matter what.)

"It doesn't matter! Why do you even care? It doesn't concern you!"

"I think it does!"

"It's not your problem! You shouldn't care this much!"

"Well, excuse me for falling in love with you!"

"What did you just say?"

"I think you heard me." The room seems to go still. They're both breathing heavy, staring directly into each others eyes and she can feel her heart rate start to accelerate. "I love you."

"That's low, Jesse." She crosses her arms across her chest, and her eyes are still hard against his gaze. "You can be as much of an asshole all you want about this, but don't go clouding the issue with phony romance."

"There's nothing phony about this. Beca, I love you."

"Will you stop saying that?" She curses him for bringing up the one topic she'd been trying so hard to avoid for the past two weeks. "You don't love me."

"Beca, I know what I said and I meant every word of it. I'm in love with you."

"Stop saying that!"

"Bec," he reaches his hand out to cup the right side of her face, but she turns her head away from his touch. "What are you so afraid of?"

"I…" She looks down at the ground for a moment before regaining her composure, she laughs humorlessly before looking back up at him. "This is ridiculous. Conversation over."

She storms off out of his bedroom, slamming the front door to the Treble's house behind her.

:::::

She makes her way into the Bella's house, promptly ignoring the group of girls sitting in the living room who greet her on her way in. She heads straight up the stairs to her bedroom, her feet heavy against the hard wood floor.

She throws her black cross-body bag on the floor, laying against her back on her small bed. She pulls her laptop up and rests it on her upper thighs, angrily clicking away against the mousepad.

"Well, hello to you, too."

She shoots her eyes over at the Australian sprawled out on her own bed. She sees Amy throw her hands up in defense when she shoots her eyes in her direction.

"Bad night?" She only scoffs in response. "Fight with your boy toy?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch," Amy says. She closes her MacBook and tosses it to the far right side of the bed. "Plus, he texted me and told me to keep an eye on you tonight, so."

She's quiet for a moment, taking a deep breath before saying, "Jesse seems to think he's in a position where he can help me make decisions about my family."

"Alright." Amy drags the words out slowly and it gives her the encouragement to continue.

"And that's fine!" Her hands are rested against her stomach, head resting on the blue and gray pillows set at the head of her bed. "I appreciate that he wants to help. I really do. He can tell me what he thinks is right for me, I don't care! But she's my mother. And it's my decision. He doesn't get to tell me I'm making the wrong decision."

"He's only trying to help you, Beca. You're not exactly the most level-headed person I know."

"Whose side are you on?"

She sees Amy's hands fly up fast in defense for the second time that night. "Yours. Definitely yours. I'm just trying to help."

She laughs after a few minutes of silence between the two of them, but there's no humor in it. "That's not even the best part. The best part is that he thinks he can influence my decision by completely changing the subject and telling me that he loves me!"

"Jesse told you he loves you?" Amy's quick to make her way over to her side of the room and sit herself down at the end of the brunettes bed. "I don't see the problem with that."

"The problem is," she trails off. She's barely rationalized her next words with herself, let alone tried to rationalize it with someone else. "I'm totally in love with him. And I can't tell him that."

"What's wrong with Jesse telling you he loves you?"

She sits herself up and criss-crosses her legs. She takes a minute to sort out her thoughts. "Jesse's a good guy."

"Yeah. And?"

"And…he needs stability. He needs a nice girl who's going to want the same things that he wants in the future. I'm just…" She trails off and looks down at her hands. She feels the tears welling in her eyes, but she quickly composes herself. "I'm hardly easy to put up with. I don't know how he's dealt with it for a whole year, already. Two years, if you think about it. It's just…what if he wakes up one day and he realizes that he deserves better than me?"

Amy's calm and gentle when she replies with, "You're afraid he's going to give up on you."

She nods slowly in response, drifting her gaze to her hands sitting idle in her lap. "Yeah."

"Don't worry about the future," Amy says. "You _love_ him. And he loves you. That's all that really matters, isn't it?"

"That's easy for you…"

Her sentence trails off when she hears music playing outside their window. She looks up at Amy in question, but she just shrugs. But then, she hears it. She _knows_ that song. She knows exactly who's behind this, and by the smirk on Amy's face, she knows Amy's figured it out, too.

She makes her way over to the window by Amy's bed that looks out into the Bella's backyard, Amy trailing right behind her. She looks outside to find her dork of boyfriend holding flowers up to her, a boombox sitting on the ground besides his feet, it's speakers blaring out 'Don't You Forget About Me.' There's a few candles set on the ground, a bright orange-yellow flame glowing around him.

She wants to kill him for doing something so cheesy, but it's so incredibly _him_ that she can't help but smile down at him.

Amy elbows her in her ribs and says, "What are you waiting for? Go get your man, Mitchell."

:::::

"What the hell are you doing?" She tries to come across as angry, but she can't help but laugh at the scene that's in front of her.

"Will you listen to me?

She sticks her finger out in the direction of the black boombox besides his feet. "Will you turn that down?"

"Only if you promise to listen to me."

"Jesse."

"I'm not gonna turn the music down until you promise to listen to me."

She waits for a moment before calmly saying, "I'll listen to you. I promise."

Jesse hands the bouquet of blue roses over to her gently and leans down besides him to turn the volume knob down, almost to mute, but he leaves the quiet hums of the tune softly playing, ensuring they're both able to still hear the music playing quietly behind them.

"I love you." Beca sighs before him. "Listen to me. I love you. Right now. In this moment."

"Jess, you don't have to do this."

"Not because I think you should go to your mother's wedding, but because I love you." She shifts her weight from her right foot to her left. "The truth is, I've loved you for a while now. I don't even remember when it started. Maybe it was when you kissed me at Lincoln center." She feels her lips start tugging upward into a small grin and she curses herself for being so easily effected by his words. "Or maybe, it was when my grandfather died last semester and you were right by my side, all day, everyday. But I've realized, that I need you. I trust you, and I admire you. And you might be wrong a lot of the times, and you might drive me crazy a lot of the times, but I love you. Completely."

Beca moves her gaze to her feet when she says, "You were right about me."

When he doesn't respond right away she continues. "I push away people who care about me. I don't let anyone get close to me because the truth is I know someday they're all going to leave."

"Beca, I'm not going to walk away from you. I'm not going to give up on us."

"I know. Just let me talk," she kneels down slightly to place the bouquet of roses on the hard ground beneath her feet. "My dad left me when I was really young. I could never understand why. It was really hard for me to deal with that. And the thought of something like that happening again…"

"It's scary. I know."

"So, I try and rationalize with myself. I tell myself that I like you, or I care about you. And when that doesn't work, I shut you out, or I push you away."

"You've been doing a good job of that lately."

"I know. I'm sorry," she bites the bottom of her lip. "I sit and wait for these feelings to pass, because that would be easier, but the truth is, they never do. And I don't think I want them to."

"I don't want them to, either."

"Okay, here goes." She moves herself closer to him, and he's quick to reach out and grab her hands in his own. She's grateful for the action; she's terrified. "I think you are amazing. And talented. And so incredibly patient, and caring. You're also really funny. And you're my best friend." She smiles up at him and he squeezes her hands as he returns the smile back to her. "I love you."

"Well, I've know for quite some time now." She punches him lightly against the shoulder, but she's silently grateful that it seems to lift some of the anxiety off her shoulders. He flashes his signature grin at her and says, "But, it's nice to hear."

He brings her in closer to his body, holding her lightly by the hips; she winds her hands up under his shoulders to hold him close to her as he leans down to grab her lips in a kiss.

As soon as his lips touch hers, she finds her self wondering what it was she was so stressed about. All of her uneasiness from the past few weeks seem to melt away as he pulls her body closer to his own.

Of course her loves her, too. It's _Jesse_.

He's not going to to just give up on her, he's going to fight for this, just like he'd been doing since the beginning.

Sure, things might not work out between them, but she finds herself not worrying about what the future might hold right now.

She's got the guy she loves wrapped up in her arms.

She's pretty sure it can't get better than this.

* * *

 _Title is from Ashley Monroe's 'Has Anybody Ever Told You'_


End file.
